Revelio!
by BanaoElite
Summary: If seeing Alfred and Arthur in a relationship and then having strange thoughts and Ron wasn't enough to make Harry doubt his sexuality, waking up to the two blondes snogging certainly was. USUK, Harry x Ron


_A/N: I apologize for not replying to any of your reviews before this. I STILL haven't figured out FanFiction yet…And I only log in to my account once every few weeks. Not to mention that I don't even know what the norm is considered to be on here… ^^; Again, I apologize. I'll start giving shout outs to people in the notes at the beginning from now on, so they know they're appreciated._

_Iggy in a Hogwart's robe and scarf… *drools*_

_The title of this is the spell for revealing something hidden. oAo_

**xX Revelio! Xx**

Harry Potter tried his best not to judge people. This was, of course, due to the fact that people were prone to judging him.

Sure, there were a few exceptions: Draco Malfoy and his cronies, Snape, Umbridge…

And then there were those two.

_Arthur Kirkland and Alfred F. Jones._

Harry wasn't quite sure what he thought about those two, but he constantly caught himself judging _himself_ based on _their_ actions.

Arthur Kirkland was a seemingly normal sixth-year Gryffindor. He had honey-colored blonde hair, emerald eyes even greener than Harry's, and a scarf he chose to wear around his neck that was in their House's colors. To top it all off, Arthur also had a love for fine literature and tea, making for one of the most stereotypical British people Harry had ever laid his eyes on.

His eyebrows were so large, however, that Harry couldn't help but wonder whether a spell had gone wrong and made them that size.

And then there was Alfred.

Alfred F. Jones seemed to be the embodiment of anything and everything American. He was a transfer student, and yet again, Harry found himself thinking he fit is country's stereotype perfectly. Alfred was loud, obsessed with justice, had a hero complex, loved hamburgers to death, had blonde hair and blue eyes and even a piece of hair that refused to stay down…Everything about him seemed to ooze America, from his Air Jordan basketball shoes to the glasses resting on his nose. Add this to him being the captain of the Quidditch team and you have Hogwarts' resident lady-killer.

If the two of them weren't in a relationship, no one would have ever thought them to be gay.

The cute American Quidditch star and the stuck up prefect, _together?_ Even Hermione had found the concept hard to wrap her mind around. Teachers, too, found the concept hard to swallow, whether it was Snape making lewd remarks during Potions _("Be sure to use protection, Jones.")_, to Professor McGonogall shooting them disapproving glances while teaching Transfiguration.

But Harry wasn't the type to judge others based on their sexuality. He harbored no ill feeling towards the two of them. If they wanted to go on dates in Hogsmeade, let them go on dates in Hogsmeade, he thought.

…Just not when he and Ron were nearby.

The reason that Harry Potter had difficulty accepting the blonde couple was the way they made him feel around Ron.

When he and Ron were around the couple, Harry often found himself having strange thoughts. In the hallways, Harry often found himself wondering how Ron would react if they were to hold hands. He found himself thinking about what would have happened if he had asked Ron to the Yule Ball instead of Parvati…Harry even caught himself wondering whether Ron preferred boxers or briefs.

Nothing screams _'unsure about my sexuality'_ quite like wondering about your best _male _friend's underwear.

Harry had found himself so flustered that he'd even considered writing to Sirius about all of this, though he'd quickly debunked that idea. How was his godfather going to help him with this?

But as Harry watched his fellow students around him, together, his bewilderment only grew.

The thing that tore apart the last of Harry's doubts, however, ended up being the very same couple who had caused him to question himself in the first place.

He'd woken up to the sound of sheets rustling and a bed squeaking. After stopping to listen for a moment and hearing nothing, he dismissed it as a restless sleeper (probably Neville), Harry had been about to fall back asleep. He'd pulled the covers up a little more over his head to block out the moonlight and closed his eyes.

That was when he heard the moan.

"Mnnn…A-Alfred, they'll hear us—_ha…"_ A voice Harry recognized as Arthur's ended in a breathy moan before he could finish his protest.

Harry cautiously glanced a few beds down before blushing beet red.

Alfred and Arthur were _snogging. _The captain of the Quidditch team was on top of his boyfriend, their bodies pressed together with the Brit sandwhiched in between him and the mattress. Harry watched in morbid curiosity as both got their tongues involved, then as Arthur licked Alfred's lower lip and eased his upper lip in between. Harry found he couldn't tear himself away until they were finished for the night. Alfred crawled back to his bed, both with swollen lips and red faces, their hair messy and disheveled.

Of the furious blush on the chosen one's face wasn't enough evidence already, the slight bulge underneath his covers was certainly enough condemning evidence to prove that he had enjoyed that little spiel a _little too much for comfort._

The next morning, after finally shaking off Hermione to get them some privacy, Harry, denial be damned, asked his best friend out. And, to his surprise (and immense relief), Ron agreed.

Around the corner, out of sight, Alfred and Arthur smiled at each other, feeling rather accomplished.

"Took 'em long enough." Alfred laughed as he watched the pair walk away, hand in hand.

"I'm glad they're finally together." Arthur conceded. His smile faded as he voiced his next thought with a frown.

"The question remains…Who the bloody hell's going to tell Hermione?"


End file.
